The Parody of Everything
by Miss Pookamonga
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a random author who wrote random things. And this random author one day decided to write a random story about a lot of random events and random characters. Thus began the random beginning of a very random parody.


_Dear Readers,_

_Yes, this is a random idea I've had for a while that was partly inspired by Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail--basically b/c that movie is a parody of a whole slew of different things and makes absolutely no sense. Thus, I am writing this story entitled, "The Parody of Everything." I assure you, it is going to be pure nonsense. So if you're looking for something sensible to read, leave this place immediately. But if you do want some nonsense, sit back, relax, and read. Because this story is going to be one great package of nonsensical randomness._

_Best Regards from a Bookworm,_

_Miss Pookamonga ;-)_

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away…

...or not...

There lived a man. A very old man with a long white beard who wore half-moon glasses. He also wore strange-looking robes that reached down to his feet and covered them completely, save for the tips of his toes. He always had shoes on, though, so no one, thank goodness, ever got to see his toes. And of course, he always wore a hat. A huge, long, pointy hat with a rather large brim. This hat was not a particular favorite of his, as its pointy tip never stayed straight up; rather, it sort of "wilted" no matter what spell he tried to cast on it.

The wizard was a very important man. Or rather, a very important wizard who pretended to be a very important man. Or a very important man who pretended to be a very important wizard who pretended to be a very important man. Or a very important wizard who pretended to be a very important man who pretended to be a very important wizard who pretended to be a very important man who pretended to be a very important portrait of a wizard pretending to be a very important man. The reason he was so important was because he was headmaster of a school in a country called England, which is actually part of Great Britain, which consists of Northern Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, in addition to England. If that was confusing, it is probably because most Americans do not understand the structural and geographical organization of Britain, and neither do I, because I am an American. However, if you are not American, then forget the last sentence altogether and skip over it—oops, too late.

Anyway, this man was headmaster of a school in England for young wizards and witches—all of whom were British, because a woman called only by her initials refused to allow any exchange students (especially American ones) to attend the school. As I said earlier, it was his position as headmaster that made him so important. According to the wizarding world, he was a very good and very powerful wizard, and every witch and wizard in Britain trusted him to run the school and protect their children from harm—unless, of course, he happened to hire a teacher who was really an evil man masquerading as an Auror with a scary blue eye who had just become a teacher—but that is an entirely different story which will come into play later. Anyway, the power and goodness made this wizard the most trusted wizard in history, and it enabled him to be the only thing that another very powerful, but not very good (i.e. EVIL!) wizard feared. But again, that I will go into detail about later.

The old wizard was on a boring suburban street called Privy Lane in the dead of night—a phrase which here means, "at 11:59 PM when it was really, really, dark." Privy Lane was just a block away from Drury Lane, on which lived the legendary Muffin Man. The wizard, in fact, had just been to the Muffin Man's house to pick up a few blueberry muffins to give to his friend, whom he expected to arrive any minute now. Suddenly, a gr_e_y cat—or perhaps a gr_a_y cat—appeared in the driveway of the house the wizard was standing in front of. There was nothing particularly strange about the cat or about the fact that it was in this certain driveway; in fact, since it was a boring suburban neighborhood, everybody had the same type of house, the same type of driveway, and owned the same type of cat, such as the grey?gray? tabby in the driveway of Number Four, Privy Lane.

The wizard watched the cat closely as it trotted down the concrete driveway toward him. When it was about halfway across the driveway, it suddenly jumped up and magically transformed into an elderly woman wearing the same type of robes and hat that the wizard was wearing. Her hair was tied up into a high, tight bun, and a pair of glasses was clipped onto her collar. She walked the rest of the distance toward the wizard while maintaining a seemingly stony—a word which here means, "very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, etcetera serious"—expression on her face.

"Good evening, Albert," said the woman in a voice as serious as her face.

"It's more like good morning, Minnie," answered the wizard called Albert, glancing at a gold watch on his wrist, which now read 12:01 AM. This, of course, is said to be the official start of a new day, and the official start of morning, although most people consider the start of a new day to be 12:01 PM.

"Hmm, yes," said Minnie in reply, smiling slightly. "Speaking of morning, do I smell breakfast food?" She perked up a little.

"Oh, yes! I nearly forgot! Silly me!" Albert reached into his left robe pocket, but pulled his empty hand out in confusion. "Hmph! I could've sworn I put them in there..." He trailed off as he frantically dug his hands into a number of other pockets within his robes and patted himself down as he searched for the muffins.

"Umm...Al...perhaps they're in that, uh, basket at your feet," said Minnie, trying to smother a giggle, to absolutely no avail.

Albert looked down and yelped in surprise when he saw the small basket in front of him. "Oh, I really _am _silly," he said as he shook his head. He began to bend down to pick up the basket but stopped midway and grimaced. "Umm...Minnie...I'm going to need a little help—owwww-aaaahhh—"

Minnie quickly bent down and picked up the basket. She lifted the cloth covering it and squealed in delight (although it is quite impossible to imagine such a serious woman squealing) when she saw the muffins.

"OH! BLUEBERRY MUFFINS! My FAVORITE! Albert, you're so thoughtful!" She took a muffin in her hand and bit into it slowly. "Mmm!"

"Uhh, _Minnie_!" groaned Albert, who was still stuck in his bent-over position.

"Oh!" cried Minnie, suddenly remembering Albert's current condition. She took a careful amount of time to gingerly place the muffin into the basket and put the basket on the ground. Then, she scuttled to Albert (who was now in a considerable amount of pain and moaning loudly) and helped him stand straight again.

"Aaah, there. Thank you, Minnie," sighed Albert in extreme relief.

"Yourfe welfcuhmk," muttered Minnie through a mouthful of blueberry muffin.

"I wonder when Hagar will be here," Albert said into the air—of course, he didn't literally say it into the air—well...actually...I think he did...but that it is all biological—or chemical—or physical—or perhaps astronomical—but anyway, that doesn't matter.

Minnie mumbled something incomprehensible through another mouthful of blueberry muffin. She was now scarfing down her second one.

Albert opened his mouth to say something more, but he was suddenly cut short by an extremely loud roaring noise coming from the sky above. Minnie dropped her muffin in surprise and whimpered childishly when she saw that it had bounced off the basket and tumbled to Albert's feet.

"My MUFFIN!" she squeaked, sounding close to tears.

Albert, however, didn't seem to hear Minnie at all, partly because he was beginning to get very annoyed at her obsession over the muffins and partly because he was searching the sky for a sign of Hagar.

"Hmm...I'm sure that noise came from his—"

_VRRROOM! _(An expression which here expresses the certain emission of sound that a motor vehicle emits when its engine is started.)

Suddenly, out of the looming darkness, a gigantic motorcycle swooped down onto the street and sped right up to the driveway of Number Four, Privy Lane. Minnie, who had given up on her second muffin and begun eating her third, jumped, startled, and dropped the new muffin onto the driveway. She wailed pitifully and stomped her foot on the ground in frustration.

Albert, however, was still ignoring Minnie and was now staring at the giant-sized motorcycle. He had been expecting to see a large man situated on it, but instead, a tiny blonde-haired fairy in a green dress and a brown mouse with a miniature sword and belt were sitting cross-legged on the seat.

"Tinkerbell! Reepicheep! What are you two doing here?"

The two creatures stood up and bowed before Albert. "Oh, Professor Dunkiedoor, we came to tell you that Hagar has decided to hitch a ride in the Trojan Horse to Drury Lane," answered the mouse Reepicheep in a voice of deep respect.

"DRURY LANE!" cried Albert in exasperation, throwing his hands into the air. "I _told_ him to go to _Privy_ Lane! The one with the bathroom name! I specifically told him that, and he _still_ goes to DRURY LANE!"

"I'm sorry, sir," said Reepicheep. "I was not aware that he was to be here on Privy Lane. He told Tink and me that he was going to Drury Lane. He lent us his motorcycle for the night because we were going to a drive-in movie."

"If he said he was going to Drury Lane," seethed Albert angrily, "then HOW did you know to find me here?"

"Well...he said that you'd be expecting him on Privy Lane...but then he said he was going to Drury Lane...what he said didn't exactly make sense, sir."

"It obviously didn't!"

"I'm sorry sir."

Albert groaned and wiped his hand over his face. "Oh, it's all right, Reep. It's not your fault," he muttered.

"Well, I still am sorry about the situation," answered Reepicheep. "But if you don't mind, it's late, and Tink and I need to be getting to our homes. The double-feature tonight was quite tiring."

"Oh, of course, go on ahead," said Albert tiredly. "Thank you, though."

"You're very welcome," answered the mouse with a final bow. Then, he and Tinkerbell sat back down on the motorcycle seat again, and Tinkerbell started the engine with a flick of her wrist and a puff of pixie dust. The engine revved up, and in a minute, the oversized motorcycle had disappeared into the night sky.

"Wow," whispered Minnie in awe. "I wish I could do that without a wand."

"C'mon, Minnie, let's go," groaned Albert, straightening his crooked hat, which he often did when he was upset or nervous.

"Gumph wheumre?" Minnie asked, biting into the last part of her fourth muffin.

"To fetch Hagar, of course," Albert answered, trying to hide his frustration with both his colleagues—a word which here means, "eccentric co-workers."

"Oh. Are we—umph—going to apparate?" asked Minnie as the swallowed the last bit of muffin.

"Yes, of course! How else would we get to Drury Lane?"

"Well...it's only a block away. We could walk."

"Minnie, you know we don't have any time to spare! We need to get Hagar here as soon as possible!"

Minnie sighed for the first time that night—or morning, whichever it was. "I know, I know," she answered. She picked up the basket and suddenly returned to her previous rigid, stony state.

"Okay. Are we ready then?" asked Albert.

"Yes."

The wizard and the witch pulled their wands out of their pockets and waved them in the air. In a flash, the two (and the muffin basket) were gone.


End file.
